


Chocolate Milkshake, Strawberry Lemonade

by fortunate



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Annie January hates Homelander, Canon-typical swearing, Dialogue Heavy, Gen, Humor, Not Beta Read, pop culture references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27045919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortunate/pseuds/fortunate
Summary: “Translucent is for Tarantino Fanboys and girls too cool for either of us, while also being perfect for newly-divorced “fun moms”. Translucent’s marketing is the reason we all suck. If he hadn’t been such a success despite his objectively shitty powers, we wouldn’t be here pretending we’re allowed to drink milkshakes and look normal.”“What’s with you and this in-depth analysis of everyone. I thought you were too cool for us.”“I am.”_________________________________________________________________Starlight and Queen Maeve go get lunch, for marketing purposes.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Queen Maeve & Starlight
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	Chocolate Milkshake, Strawberry Lemonade

**Author's Note:**

> No plot, just girls hanging out. Could be interpreted as pre-Maeve/Starlight, if you want.

Maggie Shaw sat across from Annie January in what was possibly the most run-down diner she’d ever seen. The setting itself would stop anyone from recognizing them as their hero identities, but even so, they had rented wigs from Vought’s state-of-the-art costume department to look as casual and civilian as possible, while remaining unattainable. Really, Maggie would never contour to wear a plain white shirt, and the calculated beachy-ness of Annie’s soft waves was too much, but without Sitwell to discard stupid marketing ploys, they were pretty much doomed.

“Starlight: Origins” was dropping next weekend, which meant a sappy Starlight-Is-Relatable story and a few street style photos with some casual-yet-chic outfits were due. All good, until it meant Maeve couldn’t spend her Saturday in pajamas; getting her at least twelve hour's rest from her costume every week was part of her contract, and despite legal loopholes allowing it, designer skinny jeans didn’t count.

But with Homelander god-knows-where, A-Train/Starlight being the least popular team up according to The Seven’s Twitter Analytics, and Stormfront gone, Maeve’s participation wasn’t optional. (Noir wasn’t really considered, which was a pain in the ass, like always.)

Maeve wouldn’t admit it, but it hadn’t been too bad. 

Starlight, no, Annie, was infinitely more fun to be around ever since she started following Maeve’s drunken “be a goody-two-shoes” advice. Because being a goody-two-shoes helped her become the nihilistic asshole Maeve always wanted in the team. (Again, Noir didn’t count.) The only downside was goody-two-shoes have a higher chance of getting killed. Tragic. 

Maggie took a long sip from her chocolate milkshake, if she downed it fast enough she’d be able to order another before their scheduled sighting in Central Park. “Do your shithead nutriologists believe in keto, or do you get actual food in your meal plans?” The redhead inquired, asking the waitress for another by pointing at her glass, a gesture Elena had once called “classy, but only because you’re butch.”

“They cut out red meats, but I still sneak out for burgers every once in a while, I don’t think durability powers can really work on a calorie deficit.” Annie retorted. She’s being fun, but there’s something about her smiles that lets Maeve know she’s having a hard time, with all of her “anti-Vought plans backfiring and risking her life and not destroying Vought.” 

Which is fair. Maeve won’t pretend to know exactly what it feels like, but she’s been scared of dying at Homelander’s hands before, so she knows some of it, at least. 

“They can’t. I pay the interns and trainers to get me food.” She replies, before totally ruining the mood. “You should start doing that instead, I doubt they’ll keep letting you go out, with your double-agent-ness and stuff.” 

Maeve has lost teammates before. But it never made her feel as bad as having Starlight die would. Well, she’d cry real tears if A-Train died, he was a decent friend and the only person who could make AA meetings bearable. But if he died, there would be a little karma to it. Just like if Maeve did. (Was she using karma correctly in this internal monologue? she was never sure, but she never asked. Terribly white of her.) 

Annie dying would suck because she’d be a casualty on the good side of a shitty, capitalistic, imperialistic war their parents had signed them up for before they were even born. Another good one gone to uphold that Manifest Destiny bullshit. Annie dying would suck because Vought will never make the mistake of hiring someone as sweet as her again. Annie dying would suck because they would torture her, disgrace her, dishonor her in the process. Annie dying would suck because Maeve wants her to outlive them all. 

Annie doesn’t seem to be a huge fan of dying herself. At Maggie’s comment, she looks briefly away, as if to hide her eye’s reaction. But then she turns to Maeve again, “The marketing interns?” She asks, instead. 

“Of course not, they’re assholes. Go directly to your social media team. Make a group chat with them. Give them permission to make you like their tweets and their shitty SoundCloud music.”

“How do you even know what Soundcloud is?”

“I’m not that old. Bitch.”

“Isn’t it risky, trusting people from Vought?”

“Yeah.” Maeve says. Annie was in the Young Americans back when an intern held her teammates’ nudes’ hostage. If it was high profile enough for Maeve to get wind of it, Annie must remember well. “But you can’t just starve, and you can’t keep going out. Plus, your team is mostly twenty-something lesbians. After the shit you pulled at Believe? They love you more than your gun-carrying little groupies ever did.”

“Oh, c’mon, they weren’t that bad.” 

Teasing Starlight is easy, because she loves pretending she doesn’t find it funny. Especially now that she’s going through her Nietzche phase. “Honey, if you hadn’t rebranded you would’ve won country album of the year. You would’ve launched a mayo brand. You would’ve-”

“Fine. Conservatives liked me. Didn’t you endorse Romney?”

“I did not.” Maeve says. Maybe a little too fast. 

“I remember you did.”

“I did not! I voted for Obama. I was hired as security.” And she’d gotten the fattest check of her life, too. 

“Oh, Vought has bodyguards, then?”

“For the right price.”

“Mmm.” Annie says, looking too smug. Like she’d just won. 

“Mmm.” Maeve says, before changing her posture, leaning towards Annie, who is triumphantly sipping her strawberry lemonade. “So, Annie, did you actually fall for Stormfront’s little TV persona or are you just bad at gay crushes.”

Annie chokes. 

“Oh, c’mon, you’re fine, Starlight. Don’t play dumb. Or don’t be dumb.”

“I don’t have a crush on her!” She says, but unlike her usual teasing, it gets her aggressively riled up.

“Cool. Then I didn’t have an affair with Nicole Kidman in 2003.” Maeve drops simply, prepared for Starlight’s questioning look. An unsaid I tell you if you tell me agreement settling. 

“You what?”

“I nothing, because you don’t like Super-Ben-Shapiro.”

“I don’t!” Starlight retorts. “buuuut…I could’ve if she weren’t too busy being not like other girls.” For the record, Maeve believes her, but this is too fun to drop.

“You had a crush on me, and that was my whole brand for years!” Maeve replies. 

“Do you wear that little tiara thingy because there are no crowns the size of your head?” 

“That was a shitty, overthought insult, Annie. I don’t need you to confirm it, I know it. You were using my second fragrance when you joined the Seven. It came out like a billion years ago.” Maggie finds herself laughing.

“Oh, fuck off. If you thought that, why were you such a bitch?” She’s not as angry as her language makes her sound, Maeve thinks. But she wouldn’t say she’s an expert, so she continues cautiously. 

“Because I suck, and because I didn’t know until Translucent told me.”

“I thought you hated his guts?”

“Oh, I do. Only good thing your twink ever did.” Maeve thinks calling him Twink is clever, even though he’s tall as shit. 

“Why was he giving you gossip, then?”

“Because he was an ass. He loooooved gossiping with Black Noir.”

“How do you even gossip with Black Noir?”

“Well, it’s pretty easy. Did you know he’s a qualified counselor?”

“Nothing about him surprises me.”

“He’d appreciate that.”

“Would he?”

“I’m not sure. I’m still not sure we’re friends and we’ve been having brunch for seven years. But he gives amazing back pats. Anyway, you had a crush on me.”

“Not fair.”

“How is it not fair?”

“You were the only cool mainstream one when I was a teen! Save for Black Noir, but he’s basically a human placeholder in the movies.” She’s flattered, honest. But this isn’t a feelings talk, it’s friendly bullying. 

“What about Lamplighter? He was cool!”

“No he wasn’t, he was the human equivalent to dad rock.” 

“And cool people listen to Dad Rock.” She says, maybe too defensive.

“Ew.”

“Well, what do you listen to, then? What cool music does Grammy Nominee, Annie Starlight Lastname like?” She knows it’s a month, but getting it wrong would be worse. 

“I can’t believe you don’t know my last name. And 100 gecs.”

“That sounds like a drug dosage. And you should be thankful I know your name. I always forget A-Train’s.”

“That’s because A-Train sucks.”

“He does not! He’s definitely the coolest member of the seven. After me, of course.”

“Oh? Care to share the official ranking?”

“If we’re talking Personas; A-Train, Me, Lamplighter, You, Stormfront, Translucent, The Deep, Homelander.”

“Homelander last?”

“I mean, he’s not Elvis, he’s not cornflakes, he’s not a politician, and yet, he is all those things. It’s exhausting. The rest are celebrities, Homelander is just a Fox News Broadcaster dressed up as a WWE fighter. Too cheesy. And he hasn’t released a country album, even though Dolly Parton has publicly offered to collaborate.” 

“I see your point. But how is that different to my marketing?”

“Okay, for starters, Greta Gergwig wrote your movie. You’re for moderate-libs. Homelander is packaged as a general product. You’re mostly conservative-friendly, yes, but your brand is much more modern.” 

“Thank you, but Edgar Wright directed Translucent. Charlie Kauffman helped with the script. I still don’t compare.”

“Translucent is for Tarantino Fanboys and girls too cool for either of us, while also being perfect for newly-divorced “fun moms”. Translucent’s marketing is the reason we all suck. If he hadn’t been such a success despite his objectively shitty powers, we wouldn’t be here pretending we’re allowed to drink milkshakes and look normal.”

“What’s with you and this in-depth analysis of everyone. I thought you were too cool for us.”

“Well, I am, but you can’t be roommates with the same people for fifteen years and not pick up on some things.” Starlight hadn’t been around that long, but before she said anything, Maeve’s apple watch (the worst addition to her “civilian” clothes by far; she would never wear something so Sitwell-ish, but Vought’s brand-placement contract never slept) let out a loud ring. “Look at the time! We’re late to the rest of our fake-date.”

“Yeah. Was it a good idea to do this so soon after you came out? Won’t your girlfriend mind?”

Elena wouldn’t mind, since they were on a break. Which Maeve was completely cool with. But The New Elena, a nice vlogger that had been hired as her rebound, would. She could probably get away with making a “DID QUEEN Maeve CHEAT ON ME?” video, too. As long as it didn’t fuck up the terms of their NDA. 

“Nah.” Maeve replies, after a moment of silence

“So, are you guys serious? I mean, if you talked about her to Homelander and everything, you must be.”

“Well- I mean…” Maeve should tell her to fuck off for trying to get personal, but they’re procrastinating so it’s okay. “we’re… solid, but I wouldn’t have come out like that.”

Annie (because Starlight has never looked this open) nods sympathetically and looks up like she wants to know what Maeve was going to say. 

“For starters, I always wanted to come out on Twitter. Like, a huge notes app thing, or maybe quote-replying.” Maeve elaborates. She would’ve done it after retiring from The Seven, too, when on her way to a private island where Homelander wouldn’t find her. 

“Ew, that’s such a millennial move.” Which is not the reply Maeve was hoping for at all. 

“You’re a millennial.” 

“Barely. I’m basically Gen-Z.” 

Maeve pffts before replying. “Oh, fuck off, you know that’s not true.”

“I’m twenty-three!” Annie exclaims, which sounds fake, but okay. Something about Maeve’s face makes the blonde add a soft, barely audible: “Hmmmph.”

“Hmmmph” Maeve mocks. 

“I don’t sound like that.”

“You’re right, it’s more like Hmmmmph between sparkle emojis.” She doesn’t even try hiding her shit-eating grin. 

“You’ll feel sorry about bullying me when Homelander lazers my face.” 

“That’s dark. And uncalled for.”


End file.
